This Can't Be Right
by Aviator28
Summary: Set after Stiles/Scott confrontation. Not starting out to angsty but will get there. Believe me. -What if when Stile drove away after Scott practically threw him away, he never stopped? What if it's six years later and they find him, but he doesn't want to be found, at least by them. - Horrible summary, but R&R with what you think. I'm a little iffy about it.
1. Chapter 1

It had been a long day for Stiles. He had a nearly impossible workload dumped on him from his boss, with only a small amount of time to do it. He didn't blame Kevin-his boss- or scold his job because in all actuality, Kevin was his friend who has been over to dinner many times, and he loved his work at the station. But, it had been a long day, and all Stiles could think about as he drove back home was getting to lay down and hold Dylan.

They had been together for almost 3 and a half years now, and Stiles was thankful for every moment. He had been in Neptune, North Carolina for 6 years now, and although it was an escape at first, it was like he belonged there all along. He had a loyal group of friends who he could tell cared deeply for him and his fiance. He had found a job he loved and excelled at, and could provide a beautiful house with. He was getting married in 2 months, and he had been clean for nearly 4 and a half years.

He always thought about how things could have been, how they would have been had he not had a wake up call in the form of his Dad's heart attack. It had been the only time he had been back to Beacon Hills, and he made sure that he had not seen any of the people from his old life. All he cared about was his dad, even though he hated the way his dad looked at him when he visited in the hospital. He could tell his dad knew of his problem-his addictions, the people problem had been discussed a couple months after he left and finally contacted his dad.

While he visited his father, he had to constantly face the disappointment, although his dad never said anything, and he was scared for his dad's health. He knew his problems were no help and he vowed on the first night he saw his dad in the hospital that when he got back to Neptune, he would do better.

It was the anniversary of his first year clean that he met Dylan at a coffee shop on the way to 4th Friday at his new job as a research assistant at the lab that worked on neurodiseases.

Stiles' face broke out into a smile as he pulled up into the driveway, but as soon as he got to the door it vanished. Something felt off. He walked in and called Dylan's name, getting a small 'here' from the living room.

 _This Can't Be Right_ he thought as he turned the corner of the hallway and saw five people he thought he'd never see - and after this long didn't want to see- every again from a life long forgotten.

"Stiles?" Scott practically whispered.


	2. It's Been Hell

_"Stiles?" Scott practically whispered._

"Scotty," was all Stiles could say, his face closing off and his body growing tight and rigid with each passing second. "Hey guys," he said, nodding to the others that had come, letting them know he was acknowledging their existence. The group just stayed quiet, looking like they weren't quite sure they were really looking at the same boy they knew and had last seen too many years ago for comfort.

He took their silence to walk over to Dylan and give her a kiss on the forehead and a quick, tight, protective hug. When he was finished with that he pulled back and looked at her in the eyes, " You okay?" he asked, taking a quick peak at the others who were watching the interaction curiously.

"Yeah Sty, I am just really confused right now. Is that Scott. Did you call him Scott? Is that everyone else from back home?" she questioned him quickly, practically whispering to him, thinking that no one could hear her, even though he was sure they all could as they were really interested in the conversation. They looked a little startled that she had known them, that Stiles had talked about them.

"Dylan, I promise I will tell you everything right after, okay baby. You trust me right?" he asked her, his arms flexing protectively around her as he asked and sneeked another quick, but not unnoticed peak at the people intently watching them.

"Yes," she said fiercely, "of course, but I just don't want anything to happen to you Sty," she said, taking her own, distrusting look at the group in their living room.

"We are just going to talk Dylan. I promise okay? Nothing will happen. I am _not_ going anywhere okay? I am right here, right now." he promised her.

That was their thing. Whenever he was feeling down, or having unwanted thoughts that might lead to his old behavior, she would ask him where he was right then. He would always be truthful. He never had to hide anything from her. This meant anything.

"Okay," she finally agreed. "But if anybody wolf's out, I'm getting the shotgun, okay?" she told him, giving him her most serious look, which only made his heart melt and his widest smile break across his face.

 _God_ , he thought watching her walk away, presumably to their bed room, _I really love this tiny ball of fire._

With this, he turned around to face the people he had escaped 6 years previous.

"Coffee anyone?" Stiles asked, as they all just stared at him in wonder.

They all sat around his dining room table with a cup of something. He was careful with certain drinks as they were specific herbal 'remedies' that would not be good for werewolves.

No one knew what to say, so as per usually, Stiles broke the ice with his usual small questions that none of them had hears in far too long.

"How is your mom Scotty?" he asked, his tone soft and genuinely curious. She was the only one Stiles had seen since he left, minus his father and a brief encounter with Deaton, pertaining to some realities he needed to face. She was with his Dad at the hospital when Stiles arrived after getting the phone call from the hospital. She gave him the most excruciating look, like she had lost a son she hadn't really noticed until he was all gone.

"She is good, man. You probably know that already, though. Since she's married to your dad, Stiles. Who you call regularly." he said, a little too forcefully.

"Yeah, well sometimes it's hard to get regular updates, you know?" Stiles responded, his own voice steeling over at the hostility lacing itself in the Alpha's tone. "Fine," he said. "Let's cut the bull crap, Scott. What do you guys want?" he asked making sure he got a good look at all of them.

Scott, Malia - his old love, Liam, Mason and Lydia -his even older love- all looked at him with wide eyes.

"Stiles," Lydia spoke up, looking almost pained, "It's been hell without you home."

"I am home," he said. Short and simple. "This is where I belong. This is where I am appreciated, looked after, loved"

"We love you, man" Scott said, his own face marking a similar pained expression like Lydia. "We've always loved you."

All Stiles could d with that is give a dry huff of a laugh as he rolled his eyes to look away and bit his tongue.

"Back to the point," he settled on. "What do you guys want?"

"You," Liam said, "you o come back where you belong. You to come back to your pack!" Liam said, his temper flaring, but mostly under control.

"No," was his only reply. He would _not_ talk about this. The old Stiles they knew was long gone; he was left behind the night they trusted a stranger over him. He stood up and took his mug over to the sink. He faced them, hands gripping the counter so tight his knuckles were turning white, Stiles keeping his emotions under a lid. "Her!" he shouted, letting go of the counter to point off in the direction of the bedroom. "She is my pack now. I have a life. A life I _love!_ A life that I am actually _living_. A life that is for _me_!" he finished. They sat there, mouths open.

"What about us?" Malia finally spoke up. "Did we mean so little that you could just move on and forget us?" She was mad, but she had also grown. When she once would have gotten physically, and not really understood so many emotions, she has now adapted.

"You guys meant _EVERYTHING!_ " he yelled, his control nearly lost now. "Do y ou know what that is like Malia?! To have a handful of people be everything you had; be your only life source and then just completely turn their backs on you, or forget about you even though you did everything for them. Even when it was at a complete and total disregard for yourself?" He got quiet the more he got out, his form slumping and his head tilting down.

"Do you know what it is like to have some be your everything, and realize that you are no body's anything?" his voice quivered. He refused to talk about this anymore. "It's always a pleasure guys, but I think it is time you guys leave. I have work in the morning and Dylan and I have things to plan." he said so dismissively, his emotions back under his control.

They all just sat there, looking sad and even a little hurt, like he had been the one in the wrong. Well, he wasn't. Not in his book.

They all got up though, and wandered to the door, taking a few glances back to Stiles. He knew they would be back, but they could not stay and talk about it, not now.

They were all settling in the car as they made their way back to their motel, still reeling and going over what just happened.

They had finally found Stiles, and he wanted nothing to do with them. That had hurt them, but what hurt them most was that he wouldn't come back. He wouldn't forgive them, and he was in pain. They noticed his pain, but they were pained too. Why couldn't he see that.

The pack was startled out of their thoughts by a knock on the door. Scott went to answer it, and when he opened it, the person he least expected -although he expected no one, actually- was the brunette who had won Stiles' heart.

"Hey, Scott" Dylan said uneasily.


End file.
